


Independence Day

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Challenge: Fourth of July, Holiday: 4th, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair declares his independence from Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Independence Day

Answering the 4th of July Challenge! 

Disclaimer 1: Boy, did THIS ever get out of hand... 

Disclaimer 2: They're not mine. 

Disclaimer 3: No Beta Readers, you pay your money, you take your chances... 

Disclaimer 4: There be Angst here in small quantities. 

Note: Quoted materials are from the American Declaration of Independence... 

Comments welcome! =) 

## Independence Day

by Merry Lynne  


Jim Ellison stood quietly on the balcony, looking out over the water. The sky was bleak, dark with the promise of rain, and a cold wind molded the dark blue silk shirt he wore to the strong contours of his body. His eyes reflected the approaching storm, more grey than blue and filled with a restlessness he couldn't define. 

"That's the last of it," Blair said behind him. 

The last of it. That was one way to put it. The *end* of it would have been more appropriate under the circumstances, but it wouldn't be like Blair to say that. That would be too final. Too honest. 

Jim didn't turn. He didn't want to look at his partner -- *ex-partner*, he corrected savagely -- and see that firm resolve. That deep-seated need to be somewhere Jim Ellison wasn't. 

"Simon's going to be here in a few minutes," Jim said to the water. "He'll take you to the airport." 

"I thought you were taking me." 

"Then I guess we both made some incorrect assumptions." 

Hypersensitive ears caught the soft, quick gasp that escaped the young man behind him; Jim didn't want a scene, but there was a dark, guilty pleasure that came with knowing his words had hit home. 

"Don't make this harder than it is, man," Blair said quietly. "You knew this was coming. It was supposed to be temporary, remember? You made that really clear." 

"I thought letting you stay for two years would have made some things pretty clear," Jim answered sharply, turning finally to face the friend who was about to walk out of his life. 

Blair's eyes were dark with hurt; it tore at Jim's heart to see him like that. The kid was right; it shouldn't be this hard. 

"'Letting' me stay, Jim. That's exactly what you did, and I'm grateful, but this isn't my home. It never was." 

Jim knew that. The loft had been his one area of control. God knew Sandburg got his way in everything else. All the kid ever had to do was turn those eyes on him, and he was lost. 

"We could've talked about it, Blair. Worked something out." 

But Blair was shaking his head before Jim was done speaking. "No. We never talked about anything. I never hid my feelings from you, Jim. You knew, and you made your choice, and we never said a word about it. You had to be so goddamn stoic, so untouchable. How long did you think I could go on like that?" 

"You never said--" 

"Don't you dare, Ellison." Blair's voice was low and dangerous, and Jim suddenly felt as if he were standing at the edge of a cliff, as if one wrong move would push him over. "Don't you dare pretend you didn't know. I did everything but send you a post card, man, and you shut me down every time." 

"And that's why you're leaving? Because you can't have what you want?" [I would have given it to you if I could, Blair. I wanted to give it to you, but...] "That's really mature, Chief." 

Blair shook his head, eyes wide with disbelief. "I stayed for two fucking *years*, Jim! Don't lecture *me* about maturity. We had a deal; I'd help you with your senses, you'd help me with the dissertation. I stayed the course. You haven't had a zone-out in months, and you can do more with those senses than we ever thought possible. My dissertation has been turned in, approved, and defended. Everything we needed each other for is over, man. It's time to let it go." 

"And friendship be damned, is that it?" 

"I can't be your friend, Jim." The blue eyes were nearly obscured by the long dark curls that whipped around Blair's face, but Jim could see enough to know he meant what he said. "Living here, I'm like an alcoholic trapped in a liquor store, only it's forbidden to touch the bottles." The younger man took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "It's not like I'm deserting you. You don't need a Guide anymore, and I...I don't need a Sentinel." 

[When has anything ever hurt like this? Who knew anything could?] "So [where does that leave us?" Jim asked quietly, dreading the answer. 

"Two guys who aren't going in the same direction anymore." 

Jim's tenuous control over his temper snapped; every word from Blair's mouth hurt more than the last, and it was all he could do to keep his fists clenched at his sides. "Well, you picked a hell of a day for it," Jim growled. "Did you plan it this way? 'Dissolving the bands' that connect us to one another on the Fourth of July... Independence Day... that's just a little too perfect." 

"God, Jim. That's kind of paranoid even for you, don't you think? I wanted to leave the day I defended, but I had to wait two weeks if I wanted the discount." 

Jim's eyebrows lifted. He'd known Blair too long to fall for it. "I notice you haven't yet denied it." 

The younger man had the grace to blush. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." 

Jim shook his head, and turned back to the water. "It wasn't," he said softly.   
  


* * *

Simon had come and gone and taken Blair away with him. It had been fifteen minutes since the engine of the Taurus Simon drove had faded into the distance, and already the emptiness in the loft was oppressive. 

Jim stood in the middle of Blair's -- of his spare room -- and looked at the barren walls. 

Everything that belonged to the young anthropologist was gone as if he'd never been. As if he'd never tricked his way into a hospital examining room and lied his way into an interview with a Sentinel; as if he'd never begged to stay for just a few nights; as if he'd never been Jim's friend, partner, Guide. Just...gone. 

Only a faint hint of incense lingered in the still air, and that, too, was fading. Jim automatically dialed his olfactory sense higher, breathing deeply, searching for something more...for that indefinable scent that he'd learned so well. 

And though it wasn't there, and would never be there again, Jim's heart froze in his chest, filled with a blinding pain. 

Blair had taught him about the dials. Blair had taught him *everything* about his senses, about being a Sentinel, and Jim knew beyond doubt that he'd never use those senses again without Blair at his side. 

And so Blair had to come back. Jim nodded, feeling the *rightness* of his decision. 

Blair was coming home if Jim had to drag him back by his hair.   
  


* * *

"...again, we apologize for any inconvenience and thank you for your patience during this slight delay." 

[Geez...not *again!*] Blair frowned, sinking deeper into his seat. This ["slight" delay had already cost him half an hour, and if they didn't leave [soon there was no *way* he was going to make his connecting flight. Naomi [would absolutely *freak* if his plane -- what was supposed to be his plane [-- landed and he wasn't on it. And of course he had no way to contact [her; he had no idea where she'd be until she left to pick him up. Hell, [*she* probably had no idea where she'd be. 

Deep breathing and a calming mantra had worked for all of about ten seconds. So much for the New Age. He'd moved on to counting to ten over and over again, and when that had failed to take the edge off of his anxiety, he'd surrendered to his new hobby: Listing all the reasons leaving Cascade was absolutely the right thing to do. 

It was a good thing he was already on the plane, because the list got shorter every time he went through it. Right now there was just one item on it: Jim Ellison was there. 

Which was also the main item on another list: Reasons leaving Cascade was probably the most idiotic thing he'd ever done. 

Blair shook his head. It didn't matter now; he'd packed his things into a few duffel bags and boarded a plane bound for the sunny southwest. No turning back after that; he'd cut the last of his ties when he handed his observer credentials to Simon at the Baggage Check counter. By midnight he'd be in Mexico, turning dollars into pesos which would, he hoped, be immediately translated into large quantities of tequila. 

At least it would be warm and dry there, he thought morosely. About the only thing he *wouldn't* miss about Cascade was the weather. 

He was staring out the window, watching the last fall of Washington rain he ever expected to see, when a warm hand fell on his shoulder with a grip like iron.   
  


* * *

"Hi, Chief," Jim said, smiling cheerily into stunned blue eyes. 

"Jim...what--" 

"No time to talk, Sandburg. We're getting off of this plane. Are you going to come with me quietly?" 

Blair glared up at him, shock rapidly turning to anger. "We've been over this, Jim, I'm--" 

"That's pretty much what I expected," Jim interrupted. God forbid that the man should listen to reason. It didn't matter; that's what he'd brought the cuffs for. Blair was either too surprised or too slow to resist when he closed the metal bracelet over one wrist, locking them together. "Blair Sandburg, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. You--" 

"Jim!" Blair hissed. "What the hell--?" 

"Hey, I gave you a choice, kid. Now get up and grab your carry-on. Don't make me use my gun." The last was delivered with a grin that felt better than anything had in ages. He'd been way too easy on Blair; he'd backed off when he should have stood firm, made the kid see reason. No more. He was finished playing by Sandburg rules. "Don't worry, folks," he said, nodding to the passengers around them. "Everything's under control." 

"Damn it, Jim! I can't believe you're being such an ass--" 

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," Jim warned, still smiling. "Give it up, Chief. You won the last round; I won this one. Come *on*." 

"Fine." Blair's voice was icy, as cold as his eyes. Jim didn't think he'd ever seen the man so angry. He collected his backpack from the overhead compartment and allowed himself to be guided down the aisle and off the plane. From the set of his friend's shoulders, Jim knew he was going to be paying for this stunt for a long, long time to come. 

He didn't give a damn. He'd pay for the rest of his life if Blair gave him half a chance.   
  


* * *

Blair seethed in silence as Jim led him through the airport, stopping only to grab the duffle bags that had never actually made it onto the plane. He had no idea how Jim had pulled this off, but he didn't like it at *all*. His mind was in overdrive, running through the millions of cutting, hurtful things he was going to say as soon as they were alone. 

That happened sooner than he expected. Jim stopped at Customs, showed his badge, and after a few bald-faced *lies* was allowed the use of an empty office "for interrogation of the suspect". 

As soon as the door was closed, Blair started talking. 

"Man, this has got to be the most incredibly humiliating thing that has ever happened to me. Where the hell do you get off *kidnapping* me off a plane and --" 

"Shut up, Blair." 

Jim's voice was just loud enough to be a little scary; Blair shut up. 

"Thank you," the Sentinel said more quietly. "You already had your turn. This time you listen to *me*. Got it?" 

"I--" 

"You'll talk when I say you can talk. Until then, not a word." Jim took a step closer, backing Blair up against the wall and glaring down at him with stern eyes."*Got it*?" 

Blair nodded. There didn't seem to be much of a choice. 

"Good. First thing. You aren't going anywhere but home with me. Don't even think about arguing," he added when Blair opened his mouth to speak. "That is non-negotiable." 

Blair just looked at him, waiting, confused when nothing more was forthcoming. Jim's eyes were burning down into his like bright blue coals, all the ice gone, and he felt himself warming under the unwavering gaze. "Jim?" he ventured carefully. "Can I--" 

"Second thing," Jim said, shaking his head as if to clear it. "You're right. I don't need a Guide and you don't need a Sentinel." 

"Yeah, that's what I--" 

"Jesus, Sandburg, what part of 'shut up' is confusing you here?" 

Blair swallowed. "Sorry, Jim. Go on." 

Jim nodded, just barely satisfied. "The third thing is, I may not need a Guide but I *do* need Blair Sandburg. And I am completely, utterly unwilling to do without him. So you're staying, Chief, even if I have to chain you to your bed." 

And there was nothing Blair could say to that because Jim's lips were on his, and they were moving, and his own were opening, and he couldn't think.   
  


* * *

*Yes.* 

This was it, this was the thing that had been missing all his life. This touch, this body pressed against his, these lips opening to him with a sob of passion that drove him to his knees. Jim carried Blair down with him, groaning softly as the younger man's legs wrapped around his waist, pressing them closer, heat to heat. Nothing in his life had prepared Jim for the depth of need that arced through him like lightning, shredding his thoughts and demanding escalation. The touch of lips became a battle of tongues, the warm sweetness of Blair's mouth almost more than he could take; the pressure over his groin became friction, and then a pleasure that was almost pain. Desire flamed out of control, burning into him, and still Blair's lips teased him, small sounds of longing rising from deep in the younger man's throat and scattering the last of Jim's reason. 

The touch of Blair's hand through denim, stroking over the length of his cock, nearly destroyed him. 

"...wait..." he said, the word almost lost as he answered yet another kiss. "...Blair...we have to..." 

"...hmm...?" 

Jim pulled his head back, lips out of reach, and fought for breath. Blair didn't even notice, his mouth seeking the pulse in Jim's throat and nipping at the heated skin, suckling warmth to the surface. Gently, Jim pushed him back, easing their bodies apart, whispering softly to bring Blair out of the maelstrom of passion they'd built between them. 

"Blair...come back, love...if somebody catches us here we really will get arrested and this is *not* something I want to explain to Simon...Blair?" 

"Yeah," he answered, his voice so deep with longing that Jim shook with the effort to hold their bodies apart. "I'm here. I just....got a little lost, for a minute..." 

Jim leaned forward until their foreheads were touching, breath mingling between them. "Me too," he said softly. 

"Jim?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"Can I say something now?" 

Jim thought about it for a minute. He was more than a little afraid of what he might hear. "Yeah," he said finally. "Go ahead." 

"That was...oh, God. That was *way* beyond anything I have *ever* felt, Jim. I can't even...there's not even anything I can compare it to. I've thought about what it would be like so many times, and I was just...god, if I'd known it would be like *that*..." 

"Hey," Jim interrupted, chuckling. "I said you could say *something*, not *everything*." 

Blair smiled shakily. "Sorry. I just...What *was* that?" 

Jim reached out and ran his hand over the softness of his friend's hair. "My declaration of dependence. Blair...I didn't know I wanted that until I did it. And I certainly didn't know what it would do to me." 

"What did it mean?" 

"It means you're still coming home with me, but if you're getting handcuffed to a bed it's going to be mine." 

"God, Jim. Don't say that to me here. I can't be responsible..." 

"What *can* I say?" 

Blair's eyes were serious, and a little afraid. "Say that you didn't do that out of pity or misplaced loyalty or..." 

"Does 'love' sound okay to you?" 

A quick intake of breath. "That's twice you've used that word, Jim," Blair said unsteadily. 

"Do you plan to keep count? I love you. That's three times. I still love you. That would be four. I--" 

"Okay!" Blair laughed, shoving at Jim's chest. "I got it already!" 

"Good. Does this mean you'll come home with me? To stay?" 

Blair gave his partner a speculative look, his eyes twinkling. "That depends." 

Jim's heart skipped a beat. "On?" he said quietly. 

"Will you let me 'assume the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God' entitle me?" 

Jim groaned, recognizing the quotation. "Equal, yes. Separate, no. Never again. Blair, we're not celebrating Independence Day next year. It makes you really weird." 

"Fair enough," Blair said. "Can we 'mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor'?" 

"Forever. Though I don't know how much honor you'll have left when I'm done with you. C'mon, Sandburg, ask me something hard." 

Blair grinned, moving his cuffed hand behind his back to pull Jim's arm around him. "Will you respect me in the morning?" he whispered softly, pressing himself close and watching his partner with wide blue eyes. 

Jim smiled back wolfishly, and leaned in to nuzzle just beneath Blair's ear. "That depends entirely upon your performance tonight." 

"If I promise to love you forever, will you promise to stick around for it?" 

"If you promise the same thing." 

"You first." 

Jim closed his eyes and took a calming breath, pulling Blair closer. "This is getting silly, Sandburg, even for you." 

"If that's going to be a problem for you, man..." 

"I promise," Jim growled. "Your turn." 

Blair grinned wickedly. "Geez, Jim, I don't know. That's quite a commitment..." 

"Kid, you've got five seconds." 

"I promise," Blair said quietly. Then: "Hey, Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Happy Independence Day." 

Jim smiled, and dropped a kiss on the top of Blair's head. 

"Not at first," he said. "But things are definitely looking up."   
  


* * *

Email the author with comments.  
Use your browser's back feature to return to your story selections or start a [new search](http://b-b-t.mit.edu/SXF/cgi-bin/senslash/selections.cgi).


End file.
